


Love Like Crazy

by loki_godofmischiefandlies



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, Friends to Lovers, Kazer, M/M, NHL Lockout, Patrick doesn't go to Switzerland, Patrick goes to Winnipeg, So I guess it's an AU?, canadians are nice people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:50:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loki_godofmischiefandlies/pseuds/loki_godofmischiefandlies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan and Patrick don't know what to do with themselves during the lockout. Jon invites Patrick to go to Winnipeg. Fluff ensues. Title from the song "Love like Crazy" by Lee Brice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Like Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> the email addresses used for the correspondence at the beginning are MADE UP.

**To:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** Winterpeg sucks

why’d you go to winterpeg? I’m fucking bored man.

-P

**To:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** It’s Winnipeg asshole

Bother your sisters or something instead of sending me scathing emails about my hometown.

Jon

**To:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** I’m not in Buffalo douchecanoe

went back to Chicago. like I said, I’m bored.

-P

**To:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** How is that my problem?

If you’re so bored, why don’t you go back to Buffalo?

Jon

**To:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** You’re supposed to be my best friend

doesn’t part of that job require you to entertain me?

-P

**To:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** Not really, no.

But you can always come to Winnipeg if you get that bored.

Jon

**To:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** Can’t believe I’m saying this

Pick me up at the airport. 11:00, terminal A.

-P

**To:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** I’ll be there

And you’d better not start talking shit on Canada in the Winnipeg airport or I _will_ leave your sorry ass there.

Jon

**To:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** Aren’t Canadians supposed to be made out of like, maple syrup and love?

not exactly a terrifying threat man. see you soon.

-P

**To:** [p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:p.kane88@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**From:** [j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com](mailto:j.toews19@hawksmail.nhl.com)

**Subject:** I hate you

See you in a few asshole.

Jon

\- - - - - -

The Winnipeg airport isn't overly busy. It almost never is. But Jon still finds himself looking around the crowd anxiously, his chocolate eyes scanning every inch of it for those familiar blond curls or bright blue eyes. 

"Hey Tazer, maybe you should look in the right direction." a voice chirped from behind him, and Jon spun around. A wide grin split his usually serious face as he took in wild blond hair and smiling blue eyes. 

"Maybe you should leave the same way everyone else does." he retorted, pulling Patrick into a tight hug. Patrick buried his face in Jon's shoulder with a laugh and thumped him on the back a few times before Jon let go of him. "Where's your stuff?" he asked, noticing that Patrick only had a duffel bag and a backpack.

"I packed light. Dunno how long it'll take for you to get tired of me so I didn't want to bring a lot." Patrick shrugged. Jon took the duffel bag from Patrick and jerked his head towards the door. 

"C'mon. My mom's having a fit." Jon said. Patrick groaned and shook his head.

"I don't know if I can handle Momma Toews right now." Patrick teased. 

"Welcome to Canada." Jon smirked, and they headed out to his pickup.

\- - - - - - 

The second Patrick shut the door he was twiddling with the radio controls.

" _Kaner!"_ Jon said in warning. Patrick grinned wickedly and turned on a pop station. 

"I'm the guest!" he cheered, turning up the song. Jon winced but didn't change the station as he rolled down his window and slung his elbow out. Patrick followed suit, and sang along quietly as they drove down the highway towards the Toews family home. 

Jonathan prayed that Patrick wouldn't see the small smile that graced his face the entire time.

\- - - - - - 

"Patrick, mon cher! Ça va?!" Andrée cried the minute Jon opened the door and Patrick sauntered in. Jon rolled his eyes and put Pat's bag by the door, toeing off his shoes and lining them up next to the others. Patrick's face flushed a pleasant shade of pink and he hugged Mrs. Toews while she kissed him once on each cheek.

"Erm...ça va bien?" he said uncertainly, and Andrée beamed. 

"You're getting better. Come in. Hungry?" she praised, breezing into the kitchen. Patrick looked at Jon, who simply shook his head. 

"She doesn't change, does she?" Patrick asked with a faint grin, and Jon shrugged.

"Guess not." Jon smiled before following his mother. 

"Tu avoues il encore?" Andrée asked after Jon walked into the kitchen. The glass in his hand slipped and clattered loudly against the counter top before rolling onto the kitchen floor. His face turned bright red, and he glared at her.

"Maman!" he hissed, eyes flying to the doorway where Patrick was standing, looking slightly confused. Andrée rolled her eyes before smiling at Patrick again. 

"So, what are you boys planning for while you're here?" she asked him, now pointedly ignoring Jon. Jon bit back irritation; he knew that this was how his mother acted when she wanted him to do something and he didn't. 

"No idea. The whole thing was sort of...impromtu, so I guess Jon's the man with the plan for now." Patrick said, taking the glass from Jon, who he noticed was silently stewing. "I don't really know what there is to do up here." 

"Oh, that's right! It's your first time in Winnipeg, isn't it?" Andrée asked gleefully. Patrick nodded. 

"Yeah, except for when we played the Jets." Patrick replied, filling his glass with water. 

"Well I hope Jon doesn't bore you." Andrée grinned. 

"Captain Serious? Bore me?  _Never!_ " Patrick teased, wiggling his eyebrows at Jon. Jon's face darkened and he huffed.

"I'm not that serious!" he grumbled. 

"Sure you're not." Patrick replied with a snort. Jon scowled at him and flicked a few drops of water from his own glass at him. Patrick wiped the drops from his face with a faint smirk and splashed Jon back. Adrée shook her head and gave them both a warm grin before slipping out of the line of fire.

  
"Pat no!" Jon yelled as Patrick dove for the nozzle on the sink. Patrick froze and grinned devilishly at Jon.

  
"What'll you do to get me to put it down?" he asked.

  
"I won't kill you." Jon said sternly. Pat chuckled.

  
"Not good enough!" Patrick screamed before spraying Jon.

  
"PATRICK TIMOTHY KANE JUNIOR I WILL KILL YOU!" Jon screamed, tackling Patrick against the counter and slamming the sink off. He put Patrick into a headlock and dragged him onto the deck.

  
"Lemme go Jonny, you're getting me all wet!" Patrick whined.

  
"Wah, you soaked me first!" Jon retorted, squeezing Patrick more tightly before dragging him towards the lake.

  
"Jon! JON PLEASE! JON DON'T! IT'S GONNA BE COLD!" Patrick yelped, beginning to try and squirm out of Jon's arms. Jon laughed darkly and shoved his other hand into Pat's pockets, tossing his phone and wallet onto the grass as they went.

  
"No mercy!" Jon grinned before throwing Patrick into the lake. He landed with a splash, and surfaced, sputtering. His curls were plastered to his head, and clothes clung to his body tightly. Jonathan grinned and started to laugh.

  
"Who's serious now, huh Pat?" he teased. Patrick glared at him and stood up, water gushing from the pockets of his khaki shorts.

  
"I'll show you serious Tazer." Patrick growled before darting towards Jon. Jon let out a yelp as Patrick knocked him to the ground. Jonathan felt the water from Patrick's clothes soaking through his already damp clothes and grimaced. Then Patrick was dragging him towards the lake by his ankles. Jonathan scrambled for purchase on the grass, but Patrick was surprisingly strong and managed to get him to the edge of the lake without much struggle. He rolled John into the shallow water, and when Jon tried to stand up, he was tackled further into the lake.

  
"Pat I hate you!" Jon growled, his hair dropping into his face. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and sighed heavily at the black screen. Pat laughed nervously.

  
"Sorry Jonny...shoulda checked." he said sheepishly. Jon just sighed and slumped out of the lake, tugging his water logged shoes off as he went.

  
\- - - - - - -

"I'll get you a new phone Jon." Patrick said as they walked into the house.

  
"It's fine." Jon grumbled, opening the hall closet and throwing a beach towel at Patrick. Pat caught it and immediately began to rub his hair dry. Jon found himself staring, and immediately yanked his head away. "But you're gonna have to explain to all the guys why I don't know who is texting me." Jon added with a slight smirk. Pat let a smile of relief grace his face, and immediately was back to his usual, buoyant self. He stripped off his soaked shirt and tossed it out onto the railing of the deck, drawing a slight blush from Jon. 

"You alright dude? Looking a little red in the face." Pat commented, snapping Jon's hip with the towel. Jon towel snapped him back and nodded.

"Yeah, just fine." he said, promptly rubbing his hair with the towel to hide his face. He was so  _fucked_. 

\- - - - - -

The rest of the day passed without much incident. Pat and Jon played video games and lounged on the deck, and then Jon helped his mom cook dinner while Pat traded war stories with David. Finally, it got close to eleven and Pat found himself yawning unwillingly.

"We'd better head out Maman." Jon said, noticing the sleepy look on Pat's face. Pat scowled at him but slowly nodded in agreement.

"Alright boys. Drive  _carefully."_ Andrée chided, hugging Jon and Pat tightly. Jon rolled his eyes, but Pat for once didn't snicker. 

"I will. Je t'aime." Jon said, kissing his mother on the cheek. Andrée nodded happily, kissed both of the boys on the cheek, and then ushered them out the door. 

" _Don't touch the radio!_ " Jon said threateningly as soon as Pat dumped his stuff behind his seat and shut the door. Pat pouted and rolled down his window.

"Fine, but no country crap either." Pat said firmly. Of course, Jon turned on his favorite country station and blasted it immediately. 

\- - - - - -

Pat found himself endlessly distracted as they drove the twenty minutes separating Jonathan's family home from his small condo. Jon had one tanned, heavily muscled arm hanging out the window, and his fingertips were tapping to the beat of the country song playing over the radio. His full lips mouthed the words to the song, and Pat began to wonder what it would sound like if Jon actually sang. He had never really heard Jon sing. 

"Hey, do you sing?" he blurted out, grateful that the darkness of the road and Jon's unwillingness to take his eyes off the road kept Jon from noticing how red his face was now. Jon's eyebrows arched up, and he shrugged.

"Sometimes...why?" Jon asked.

"Do it!" Pat said, putting on a puppy face. Jon scowled, still not looking at Patrick. "Please?" Pat added on. Jon sighed heavily; Pat almost never said please. It was just as rare as Pat apologizing.

"If you're lookin' to be somebody's just friends, a little laughin', little lovin', never callin' again, that's just fine. If you're gonna be somebody's heartbreak, be mine, yeah, oh, be mine. I guess that all I'm tryin' to tell you is a minute with you is better than two without. Oh, I won't be a fool, but I can't play it cool. So I'm playin' it safe and I'm breakin' the rules. I'm wishin' I had what I know that you got. So if you're comin' my way then please don't stop." Jon sang along with the song, his voice slightly deeper than the singer's but picking all the notes up perfectly. He even put on a southern twang. Pat felt his jaw drop slightly, and he slumped back into his seat.

"Damn it, do you have to be good at  _everything_ you do?" Pat grumbled. Jon's face flushed, red seeping into his neck and ears as well.

"I'm not good at  _everything,_ but uh...thanks." Jon muttered. Pat grinned, a small, genuine grin, and turned up the radio a little more as the next song came on. Jon didn't fail to notice as Pat's fingers started tapping to the beat against his sneaker, and he smirked. 

"Country music isn't so bad, see?" Jon commented.

"Shut up and drive Tazer." Pat snapped, his smile not fading. 

\- - - - - -

Jon was quick to unlock the door, and he tried not to frown too deeply as Pat threw his bags haphazardly into the corner behind the door and flopped onto Jon's large, tan sofa with his shoes still on. Pat saw the look on his face, glanced at his sneakers, and then sighed heavily before toeing them off. They thumped to the floor and Pat raised his eyebrows.

"Happy psycho?" he asked. Jon walked over, picked up the shoes, and placed them neatly side by side, next to his larger sneakers. 

"Now I'm happy." Jon said, moving back to the couch, picking up Pat's legs, sitting, and then letting the blond's legs drop back on his own. Jon burrowed into his seat and picked up the remote, perfectly comfortable. TSN was the first thing to come on, and Pat rolled his eyes.

"Canadian people, Canadian food, now Canadian sports channels?" he teased. Jon arched his eyebrows. 

"We at burgers Kaner, how is that Canadian?" Jon asked. Pat shifted so that his head was on his arms and chuckled.

"Who made the food?" 

"Me and my mom?" 

"And you and your mother are what nationality?"

"Canadi...I fucking hate you Kaner." Jon grumbled, changing the channel upon seeing that they were on golf highlights. Pat laughed triumphantly, but remained quiet otherwise for about ten minutes. He started to get restless though, and eventually Jon got so fed up with his endless shifting that he flipped him off of the couch. 

"What the hell?" Pat frowned.

"Go occupy yourself or something." Jon said.

"Fine...got any beer?" Pat asked. Jon raised his eyebrows but nodded.

"In the fridge." 

"Sweet, I'll grab us some and then I'm going to kick your ass at Call of Duty." Pat beamed, darting into the kitchen. 

\- - - - - - 

Beer and Call of Duty was a bad idea on both of their parts. Not only were they seated, but they were so distracted by the competetive game that they drank way more than they had initially planned. Jon didn't notice until the warm fuzzy feeling that had been residing in the back of his head for the first match shifted to the front, and the room lost its edges. 

"Fuck Kaner, how much did we drink?" he asked, pausing the game and putting down his controller. Patrick looked at the table, then looked at Jon, and began to laugh. 

"We drank like fuckin'....twenty beers or some shit!" Pat giggled, and Jon gaped at the empty cans in amazement.

"I didn't even know I had that much beer!" Jon said before bursting into laughter with Pat. They laughed until tears rolled down their faces and they were slumped onto the floor, clutching their stomachs and leaning on each other for support. 

"Jesus, I missed you Jonny." Pat said once he caught his breath. Jon stared down at Pat, both of them with lazy, drunken smiles plastered on their faces.

"Yeah, I missed you too Pat." Jon agreed, reaching around Pat's waist and pulling the smaller man into a hug. Pat buried his face into Jon's shoulder, and Jon could feel him smiling through the fabric of his shirt. They remained like that, Pat half in Jon's lap, Jon's arms wrapped snugly around Pat, until Pat fell asleep. 

"I missed you so much." Jon mumbled, standing up. He carried Pat easily into the guest room and placed him on the bed, pulled the sheets up around his shoulders, and then froze. Pat snuffled in his sleep and immediately sprawled his limbs out. A warmth flooded Jon that had little to do with the alcohol and a lot to do with his feelings for the small forward. He bent down and brushed his lips across Pat's quickly, his heart racing. 

"Goodnight Pat." he whispered, flicking off the light.

"Night Jonny." Pat whispered once Jon's bedroom door closed, his blue eyes gleaming in the dark. He had woken up while Jon was carrying him into the guest room, but had pretended to still be sleeping so that he wouldn't have to leave the warm cradle of Jon's arms before he reached the bedroom.

He fell asleep again with a smile on his face and his fingertips pressed to his now burning lips. 


End file.
